Sweet Spot by Stella Rhys
22
LUKAS
Lia’soriginal plan had been to take a three-hour Greyhound. I opted to drive despite the fact that I didn’t own a car. I’d bought an Audi at twenty-five, right when Hendricks-Cameron made it big, but after realizing I never used it, I sold the thing. Now, on the rare occasions that I felt like driving, I rented. Of course, my idea of renting involved no exchange of money. All I did was pop by Julian’s garage on Eleventh Avenue, where he kept a portion of his ridiculous collection of cars and motorcycles.
“This is… actually insane,” Lia said as we walked up a row of shiny cars ranging from vintage Fords to Ferraris, Corvettes and Cadillacs. Julian had them all.
“Trust me, I agree it’s crazy,” I laughed. “But I also sold him this space, so I’m not going to complain.”
Lia’s eyes glittered at me. “What was the commission on that? Can I ask?” When I told her, she choked. “That’s wild. These cars live on better real estate than I ever will in my life,” she murmured, shaking her head. “God, who are your friends, Lukas? What is your life? I hope you’re prepared for the fact that the people you’re about to meet today in Warren are… nothing like this.”
“I’m prepared. Just to remind you, I grew up much more like you. Not Julian.”
She shot a smart look. “Just to remind me? You can’t remind me of something you never told me about.”
“Fair enough.”
“You are going to get talkin’ today, right?”
I smirked. “Yes. Just let me get the damned car first.”
We rode out in a black Range Rover and thankfully traffic wasn’t a complete nightmare. By the time we were riding through the Lincoln Tunnel, Lia was finally done admiring every inch of the car. With a little smile, she turned her attention to me.
“This is fun,” she said. I laughed.
“Already?”
“Yeah. It’s like a road trip. I’ve never taken one before and I’ve always wanted to,” she said, pushing her Ray Bans to the top of her head. I glanced at her and grinned. She looked like summer in a plain white T-shirt tucked into a little tan skirt that flared out. I didn’t know shit about women’s fashion but I was pretty sure Lia was the definition of simple but elegant.
“Why don’t you take a road trip then?” I asked her.
“Because I never got my driver’s license.”
I raised my eyebrows. “Seriously?”
“Seriously. I got a learner’s permit but once my mom died, I kind of lost motivation to do anything for awhile,” she said, looking out the window. “And that included getting my license, I guess. I just kind of... existed for a year or so after. I had moments where I was laughing and having genuine fun but for a long time, I wasn’t really there. It was like a part of me died with my mom and I was trying to get to know myself again for awhile after.”
Her words twisted something inside me. “I can understand that. I went through something similar.”
“With your parents?”
“No. They’re both alive,” I said, controlling my urge to add “unfortunately” to the end of that sentence.
“Where are they?”
“Miami.”
“Is that where you’re from?”
“You sound surprised.”
“I am. But now that I think about it, Tess does always wear a swimsuit under all her clothes during summer.”
I laughed. “Yeah, we were total water babies. We’d go swimming pretty much every day. Walk forty-five minutes to Hollywood Beach and then take the bus back because we were too tired to walk. The bus driver started bringing snacks in case he saw us. Plantain chips sometimes, but Dunkaroos mostly. That was the shit.”
“Lukas Hendricks eating Dunkaroos. I can hardly imagine it.”
I grinned. “Well, imagine it. I loved that shit. Dunkaroos, Gushers, Capri Suns. Whole bunch of stuff I can’t find anymore.”
“Well maybe you’re not looking hard enough. I can find you Capri Suns easy.”
“Yeah?” I turned to catch the sass on Lia’s face. Only she could make smug look so good. “Well, do it then. We can make a day of it. We’ll drink Capri Sun, have Lunchables for dinner and watch Jumanji and Space Jam.”
“And Matilda.”
“What’s that?”
“You don’t know Matilda? Wow. I feel sorry for you.”
I snorted. “Jesus Christ, take it easy. We’ll watch Matilda.”
“Good. Though I have a hard time believing Tess never watched Matilda growing up. Every nineties girl was obsessed with both the book and the movie.”
“Well, she had the misfortune of having me as a big brother, and I basically dictated all our TV viewing.”
“Rude. Didn’t your parents intervene?”
“They were never home.”
Lia paused. “Oh. Were they… workaholics?” she asked hopefully.
“Alcoholics.”
She hung her head. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s alright. Tess didn’t even know anything was wrong growing up. It was just our normal,” I said as we got onto the I-95.
“Tess didn’t know but you knew?”
“I was four years older, so yeah. I knew my friends weren’t waiting up till four, five in the morning for their parents to come home. My best friends parents’ slept in beds at night. I woke up to find mine passed out on the couch with their shoes on.”
Even from my peripherals, I could see the sadness on Lia’s face as she studied me. “They just went straight from work to bars or something?”
“Yep. They both worked at the same country club. My mom was a server and my dad was in the kitchen. Both their shifts started at two-thirty in the afternoon so as far as I knew, they woke up around two, got to work, went out with friends after their shift and kept the party going wherever it went for the night.”
“They were always like that? From the beginning?”
I nodded but then frowned. “Well, for as long as I can remember, my dad was always red-faced and bleary-eyed and smelling like booze. I was close to my mom for awhile, maybe till kindergarten. But she was too in love with my dad to be left out of his life and his life was all drinking and partying. So it was almost like she picked up the addiction to stay close to him.”
“Jesus,” Lia breathed out, frowning into her lap. “That’s horrible.”
“It was alright. Tess and I were pretty used to our routine. We liked going straight to the beach from school and seeing our bus driver on the way home.”
“‘Our’ bus driver,” Lia teased, making me chuckle.
“Yeah. He was our bus driver. We actually got possessive if other people on the bus tried to talk to him. He was ours.”
Lia tipped her head back and laughed. “That’s so cute. I like to imagine that he was an old man who looked like Santa.”
I squinted as I pictured his face again. “He was too skinny to be Santa but he was definitely old. Referred to himself as grandpa and abuelo and treated us like grandkids with all the presents he showered on us. In that sense, he was definitely our own personal Santa.”
“He sounds awesome. I’m glad you had him considering…”
I smirked at her trail-off. “Considering my parents were deadbeats?”
“Yes.” Lia glanced at me for a second before gazing out the window. “Something tells me you and Tess were the cutest kids ever so I can’t imagine not wanting to watch you grow up. Then again, I’ve never met a baby I didn’t think was the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.”
“Really?” I teased. “There are some objectively weird-looking babies out there.”
“You’re right, there are. And I still love them. My favorites are the babies with big ears they haven’t grown into yet.”
“Shit, then you would’ve loved Wyatt,” I grinned, though my voice faltered midsentence.
Huh. I stared out at the road, surprised at myself for bringing him up on my own. I rarely said his name aloud anymore. If I did, it was only with Tess, on the rare nights that we found ourselves able to reminisce without falling into a depression.
Gripping the wheel, I felt my heartbeat pick up. But it slowed again when Lia took my hand. I looked at her, expecting her to ask for the story behind him but she simply met my eyes and said nothing for several minutes. All she did was stroke my hand softly, eventually turning back out the window, conveying that there was no rush for me to speak. I squeezed her hand to let her know I appreciated it.
Staring out into the road, I let her gently rub my palm for another mile or so, soothing me enough so that when I finally spoke again, saying his name didn’t hurt or feel like a shock.
“Wyatt was our little surprise. I think I was eleven when my mom got pregnant with him,” I said, remembering the fighting between my parents before they sent Tess and me to spend Christmas at Uncle James’ house. It took years for me to realize what they were fighting about. My mom wanted to keep him, my dad didn’t. “Tess and I stayed over our neighbor’s house when my mom went into labor and we were both losing it we were so excited. We were talking about taking the baby to the beach with us, teaching him how to surf and swim. We had all these ideas of who we wanted this kid to be and when we finally met him, we forgot it all because he was pretty fucking great as is. Big ol’ ears, big ol’ smile just for me and Tess when we finally saw him.”
I ran my hand over the grin that spread my lips as I thought about the first moment I saw Wyatt. He had not a damned hair on his bald head but he had green eyes like me, Tess and Mom. I was twelve and even then I knew there was something special about him. He never cried. In the mornings, I’d wake up to find him already sitting up in his crib. He didn’t make a peep till he saw me though, and when he did, he smiled, bounced on his fat baby ass and held his arms out to be picked up. Tess and I found it hilarious. We loved waking up early, sneaking up on his crib and then surprising him so he’d squeal with delight. You had to surprise him to get him to make any noise. Otherwise, he was a quietly happy baby.
“Did things… change in your house? Once he was born?” Lia asked. She was hopeful again so I felt sorry that the answer I had for her was nothing but the same.
“Things changed but not for the better. My parents were different with each other. Mom resented that she wasn’t getting any help so while they were still drinking, they weren’t going out as much anymore. They weren’t Bonnie and Clyde anymore. Wyatt put a wedge between them, and my mom resented that. I could actually see it sometimes, her eyes just looking dead when she looked at him. He barely cried but if he did, she’d groan and roll her eyes and if my dad caught it, he’d give her some ‘I told you so’ type speech. And then all hell would break loose. So Tess – she was only eight years old but she made it her job to just grab Wyatt and rock him in her arms anytime he made a noise. Just to keep the peace in our house.”
“She’s so sweet,” Lia whispered. “I wish I could’ve seen that. Babies holding babies are the cutest.”
“Yeah, especially since Tess is like…”
“Thumbelina.”
“Yeah,” I laughed. “She’s tiny. Even now.”
“Have you spoken to her recently? How is she?”
“I call her every night. She’s as good as she’s going to be right now. She’s with our Grandma, the French one I told you about.”
“Grandma Elodie?”
I turned to her with a smile. “You remember.”
“Of course I do. You told me about her the day you made me my first French omelet ever. It was delicious. And you made it so fast. I was pretty impressed that morning.”
I laughed. “You would’ve been even more impressed watching me make those in middle and high school. I was probably even better then.”
“Seriously? Why?”
“Well, Grandma Elodie spent a couple years living with us after Wyatt was born. She couldn’t whip our parents into shape but she whipped me and Tess into shape. I was the cook and the dishwasher. Tess was the one who cleaned up around the house and Grandma was the one who fed Wyatt, changed his diapers, all that jazz. She found an apartment to rent nearby and she’d come in every morning at six and she’d leave a couple hours after Tess and I came home from school. She wasn’t the type to baby us,” I laughed. “She missed home and every evening, she went to hang out with the community of French expats she found. Pretty sure she kept a couple boyfriends in Miami.”
“Damn. Grandma Elodie sounds like she knows how to have fun.”
“She does. She’s a good balance of working hard and playing hard.”
“I see. Sounds like I should meet her and get a couple pointers,” Lia joked.
“Hey, if you want to go to France, we can. We’ll say hi to Grandma and Tess and then hop the high speed train to Barcelona,” I said, peering to my side to change lanes. When I went several seconds without hearing anything from Lia, I turned to find her staring at me with a goofy smile on her lips. “What?” I laughed.
She shook her head. “Nothing. Go on with your story.”
“Let’s stop for a bite first,” I suggested when I spotted a sign for a diner ahead. “I’m hungry again and I haven’t seen you eat all morning, so you must be starving.
“I didn’t notice till now but you’re right,” Lia smiled, giving the back of my hand a little kiss before letting it rest in her lap. When I looked over at her, she was gazing out at the window, oblivious to the smile she just put on my face. It was funny to me. The smallest things she did could turn my mood entirely around and she had no idea. It was just a passing moment to her but to me, it brought me another step closer to that unfamiliar feeling of complete warmth and comfort. I’d never felt it with a woman before, but I had a feeling I knew what it was. Of course I wasn’t ready to admit that I might be falling.
So returning my eyes to the road, I chose to keep it to myself.
